


Breakfast is Just the Beginning

by Nia_Chamberlain



Series: The Misadventures of Alex Rider [2]
Category: Alex Rider - Anthony Horowitz, James Bond (Craig movies), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alex gets a wardrobe update, Alex is a boytoy, Alex is their adopted love child, Alex knows Mycroft from work, Bond is lowkey scared of Q's family, Call him Quinn, He delights in chaos, He is the Supreme Overlord, He's not sure he likes Bond dating his younger brother, How Bond and Alex met, Injured Alex, M/M, Past missions discussed, Poor John, Poor Lestrade, Q adopts Alex, Q is just amused, Q is probably my favorite, Q is so calm, Q's real name is Quintus, Sherlock is Sherlock, Sherlock is kinda protective, Skyfall, mention of a child slavery ring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-22
Updated: 2016-01-22
Packaged: 2018-05-15 13:37:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5787202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nia_Chamberlain/pseuds/Nia_Chamberlain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alex made it through the plane ride in one piece (mostly). Now he just has to get through breakfast with Q's family...and the the rest of winter vacation. </p><p>Well shit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breakfast is Just the Beginning

Alex hmmed softly as he awoke, blinking the sleep from his eyes. The room he was in was cool, but the thick blanket covering him kept him warm and comfortable. _In fact, I might just go back to sleep_. Yet no sooner had the thought crossed his mind than there was a knock on the door, followed by a low squeak as it was pushed open.

“Alex. You need to get up. You’ll miss breakfast at this rate.”

The blond didn’t bother suppressing a sigh of sadness as he pushed the covers back to exit the bed.

“Bloody hell! It’s freezing in here.”

“Sorry about that; the estates heating went out recently and Bond hasn’t gotten around to fixing it. Your clothes are in the armoire.”

Alex shivered lightly, crossing quickly to the armoire next to the door. He pulled it open, sorting through his clothes in search of jeans and a sweatshirt. Q reached around him to pluck a charcoal gray cable knit jumper from the rack, draping it over Alex’s shoulder. The teen raised a brow at the lither man. Q merely tossed his head in such a way to convey that his opinion was superior.

“We thought it was high-time you developed your wardrobe. Now hurry up, Bond’s got a fire going in the dining room.”

The brunette quickly left the room before Alex could comment on the new wardrobe he was apparently gifted, shutting the door firmly behind him. The blond huffed and took his clothes to the bathroom to jump in the shower. _Haven’t had one since Warsaw, after all. Don’t want to offend Q’s delicate sensibilities._ With a small laugh, the blond closed the bathroom door.

-Time Skip-

Bond has just finished setting the table when Alex came sliding into the dining room. The double-0 raised a single brow, placing the final glass in his hand on the table. Alex gave a sheepish grin.

“Did you polish the floors recently?”

Bond snorted and turned to the kitchen, disappearing momentarily before reemerging with a handful of serving platters. Q followed shortly behind him and Alex stood, helping set everything on the table. After a few moments the three were seated, Q pouring tea for himself and Alex.

“How is your leg?”

Alex shrugged, buttering a slice of toast.

“Sore, but besides that it’s fine. I take it one of you took care of it last night?”

Bond shook his head.

“No, there’s a doctor in town. We stopped on the way in.”

Alex hummed, stretching out his wounded leg beneath the table. It bumped Bond’s, who gave him a lecherous smirk, causing the teen to roll his eyes.

“James, be a dear and stop playing footsie under the table.”

“Alex started it.”

“Sorry, Q.”

The tech wizard took a sip of his tea, steadily ignoring his lover as he ate an orange slice.

“You may call me Quinn, if you’d like. You’ll be hearing Quintus from the rest of my family anyway.”

As if by summoning, the doorbell rang and Q stood to answer it, smoothly pressing a kiss to Bond’s lips as he passed. The agent stared stonily at Q as he left the dining room. Alex grinned, leaning forward.

“So that’s why you were so insistent I come. You don’t want to meet Quinn’s family by yourself.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

There was a vague murmur of greetings and noise as Q let his family in the house; Bond’s jaw clenched. Alex crooned with laughter, trying to keep quite so not to draw attention.

“Come on James, admit it. The big bad 007 agent is terrified of his in-laws.”

When the door to the dining room opened again, Bond was glaring at a smug Alex, whom had just grabbed the hardboiled egg Bond had lobbed at him in his hand. Q huffed, crossing his arms.

“Children! Behave.”

They both mumbled apologies, Alex placing the egg on his plate sheepishly. Q turned to the tall, somewhat thin man standing directly to his right.

“This is my eldest brother, Mycroft and his significant other, Lestrade.”

Bond and Alex both stood from their seats, the former moving to stand with an arm wrapped around Q’s waist. Alex stood at the corner of the table, trying to keep from leaning on it. Greg stepped forward, shaking first Bond’s hand and then Alex’s.

“Pleasure to meet you, Bond.”

The double-0 nodded while Alex offered a small, polite smile as Lestrade’s questioning look.

“I’m Alex. I’m just a friend, not their adopted love child.”

Lestrade offered him a quizzical grin, appearing confused by the teen’s strange humor. Alex barley offered Mycroft a nod, having met the man before and finding him…an acquired taste. One Alex couldn’t say he was putting any effort into cultivating. The door opened, revealing a somewhat short, sturdy looking blond. He appeared to be quite exasperated but offered a smile to the room.

“Ah, sorry. Sherlock is inspecting your car for some reason or another; he’ll be in shortly.”

He stepped forward, shaking hands with Bond.

“I’m John, Sherlock’s flatemate. Nice to finally meet you in person.”

Alex bit his lip, stifling a laugh. _Flatemate indeed. I’ve read those blogs, Watson, you’ll have to do better than that._ He managed to compose himself before John turned to him, taking the soldier’s hand.

“Alex. Pleasure to meet you.”

“You as well.”

Q was shooing his brother and Lestrade into seats, John following suit. Alex moved back to his, not rebuking the gentle assistance Bond offered in way of a hand on his elbow; his leg was beginning to hurt the longer he was awake. Bond had just seated himself when the door burst open again and a willowy man glided in, shedding his large coat in one swift move.

“You do realize, Quintus, that the best way to get blood out of car upholstery is with a mixture of cream of tartar, lemon juice, and a dash of ammonia.”

Q merely sipped his tea, appearing to ignore the man who could only be one of his brothers, if the shared high cheekbones were any indication. The man sat between John and Bond, fixing his gaze on Alex.

“And you must be the bleeder. I do hope my brother has taken care of your bullet wound, which you obviously received on the hijacked flight from Warsaw last night.”

He appeared to be ready to go on but John shoved an elbow in his side, casting the man a reprimanding glance to which he sulkily returned. Q turned to Alex, simultaneously passing the teapot to John.

“That is Sherlock, my other brother. As you can tell, he’s quite loquacious.”

Alex laughed lightly, taking a bite of his toast, which had now become soggy from the melted butter. He grimaced lightly but continued to eat. Sherlock was practically vibrating in his seat, held silent only by John’s presence and the cup of tea the man had basically shoved into his hand. For a few peaceful moments there was silence as everyone enjoyed breakfast. It was John who decided to kick start the conversation.

“So how do you know Quinn and Bond, Alex?”

Alex set down his teacup, trying to smother a grin.

“We met through work.”

“Don’t they work for MI6? Whatever were you doing there?”

Mycroft sighed, turning his gaze to Sherlock, who returned it with a definite sneer.

“Sherlock, what have I told you about the need for secrecy?”

“Oh, shut up Mycroft. John figured it out himself; I didn’t need to tell him anything.”

While the two eldest Holmes siblings were locked in what equaled a staring contest, Bond took over the explanation.

“To be fair, we did have a run in on the job.”

Q nodded.

“Sherlock’s investigation into that lost mob boss three months ago lead him to the scene of one of 007’s assassination operations. It was quite the mess.”

By now Mycroft had been pulled from his staring contest by Lestrade and Sherlock turned his attention back on Alex.

“So you’re a spy, hm?”

Alex calmly took a sip of his tea, frowning when he realized he needed more.

“I never said I was a spy. Making assumptions is never a smart move.”

“You needn’t say anything; I simply observed.”

Alex, familiar with Sherlock’s particular brand of ego through John’s blogs, merely smirked. Instead of baiting Sherlock with a response, the teen poured himself another cup of tea. Sherlock frowned, beginning to turn his gaze to Bond. Alex glanced up, observing how James appeared to be quite uncomfortable with Sherlock’s assessing gaze; the young blond had to resist the urge to shake his head. _I hope you appreciate this, Bond. You’re going to owe me one._

“Well, Sherlock? Aren’t you going to tell me more about myself? Since you’re such a keen observer.”

Dark curls whirled quite dramatically with the speed at which Sherlock’s head turned back to Alex. Lestrade groaned, shooting a glance at John to which the man shrugged helplessly.

“I am rather interested in your history. When did you first work with my dearest brother’s pet?”

Alex unhurriedly reached for another slice of toast, nodding his head in acknowledgment when Lestrade pushed the plate closer to him.

“I can’t say I recall; why don’t you tell me?”

Sherlock almost grinned, obviously thrilled with the chance to show his prowess of deduction.

“Your age is obviously quite the factor in your job, so it makes sense that you would have worked with Bond on an assignment that required an inside agent of young age. Perhaps a father-son cover? No, the only similarity between you is your hair and even that has subtle differences. Of course, it would have to be quite a dangerous and difficult mission; double-0 agents aren’t sent on boring, simple operations. Quintus mentioned you were spending the holiday with us in early August, which is quite in advance. This means you’ve been closely acquainted for at least a year; Quintus takes his time in forming trust. It is more likely you worked with Bond for the first time sometime last year, most probably on a mission that appeared on the cover of newspapers due to its success. Of the notable cases last year…yes, you must have worked with him on the child slavery ring disbanded in Venice.”

Sherlock appeared to pause, either for breath or for dramatic effect. Lestrade took his chance, leaning forward with his brows furrowed in confusion.

“What kind of cover did you have that got you into a smuggling ring?”

Alex coughed, maintaining steady eye contact with his plate while Bond simply stared blankly over Alex’s shoulder. Q, secretly quite amused, serenely took a sip of his tea before taking his chance to wreak havoc.

“Oh, Alex was his boytoy.”

John choked on his tea, leaning over to cough into his fist. Sherlock lightly patted his back, though most of his attention was on Bond and Alex as he deduced the situation further. Lestrade, on the other hand, paled and then swiftly turned bright red, studiously avoiding looking at Alex. Mycroft and Q continued to calmly eat a biscuit and sip tea, respectively. There was a brief moment of silence as everyone tried to let the awkward moment pass. Sherlock, of course, had no social sense and opened his mouth to speak:

“Tell me, what is it like having sex in front of criminals? I never understood the appeal of public indecency.”

John smacked Sherlock’s arm, beginning to lecture him. Lestrade appeared unable to breath, Mycroft trying to assure him of something. Q was lording over the chaos in amusement while Bond was avoiding Lestrade’s stare of judgment. Alex hides his grin behind his hand; _well this will certainly be an interesting Christmas._

**Author's Note:**

> I hope I did Sherlock’s deduction abilities justice…also I am fandom shipping trash and I am so sorry. I'm not particularly happy with the ending but eh.  
> Hope you enjoyed it!  
> Nia


End file.
